Puppets'n'Guns
by LadyBow8
Summary: This is an RPG set during a Jigsaw game, with the main POV as Billy the Puppet. He walks, he talks, he bothers his father, he has a secret club, and I love him to death. :3
1. Chapter 1 Puppet in the Real World

Chapter 1

Billy awkwardly eyed the room around him as he fumbled his fabric fingers over a sesame street toy phone. There was nothing to do. No Jigsaw- no master plans in need of his assistance...he wanted to go for a ride on his tricycle but he wasn't aloud to at the moment. He knew very well that there was activity brewing back at the house where his daddy played his games, and it really pissed him off that he wasn't included. How dare him! He threw the phone, weakly, to a place just a few feet away from his mary-janes. He kept his legs limp over the floor, and spread out just a bit, but slowly slid down to lie flat on his back. "Godamnit". He thought to himself. 

After further comtemplation, Billy had become ten-fold as angsty as before, so much that he stared rather angrily up to the dimmed florescent lighting and folded his arms. That little ass-fuck of a father. With much trouble, he rolled to the side and caught some balance again- enough for him to get to his small feat and stare mindlessly at the door. He knew it was unlocked, but he wondered...what would really happen if he were to be bad and leave? Jigsaw couldn't hurt him...if he fired him it'd probably be a benefit, and really, he was way cooler than Jigsaw anyway so he wasn't afraid. He jerked quickly around, back to the pillow in which he'd been leaning against, and then averted his eyes to the teddy-bear at its side. "You stay here and cover me." It said nothing, returning only, a black and empty gaze with its plastic round button eyes. Billy took this as a solute, strangely enough, and slowly opened the door, cringing at each and every squeak and crack created from the hinges. From there, he slipped his thin puppet-body out to the hall way, where his tricycle sat. He knew very well he couldn't ride it then- it'd be far too conspicious, and so, he would walk. He eyed one end of the hallway, leading to the chamber his daddy had used for that drug-addict Amanda-bitch, and then eyed the other end, a clear path out to a rather factory-like part of the building. Smiling with spiraling cheeks and gleaming eyes, he dashed down the hallway.

From there, he was able to walk along past the cranking gizmos and strange contraptions laying about in the dusty room. He studied his surroundings curiously while he headed past this room, innocently swaying his arms from side to side with each step. He looked down to a blur of his reflection in the dark green floors, all covered with a layer of dust. This didn't really affect him though- he knew damn well he was sexy! He lifted his chin up, this time a little higher, and attempted to pull his chest forward for the illusion of manlyness as he carried on to the end of the building, feeling utterly daring and rebellious. Challanging authority was an all time favorite activity for him, and to see the light of day for once was a plus as well. He had other things in the mind though. Screw the birds and the trees. There was life afoot! 

He stood, rather confused, but trying to hide it in the previous expression of ruggedness, on the beginning steps of the fire excape, until finally coming to terms with the fact that he was going to have to climb down and with each step on the narrow bars, hold on for dear life. He put a hand on the handles and looked down, and then turned himself backwards to begin the climb. With that, a finger slightly slipped over the metal, causing his eyes to enlarge. And in the result of this, he came up with a rather fantastical plan to head down! Something only a light inanimate object could accomplish! He let his legs lose their stance over the bars below him, and though wrapping his fingers around the bars, let his body swish down the latter until his feet met the ground, and his legs curled. He fell backwards with a bit of a commotion, feeling the pressure of his wooden skeleton being bent to its utmost tolerance. "Fuck!" He let out, and then looked around to make sure no one heard him. He slid his arms across the cement and pulled his legs out from the unnatural way that they were tangled and stood up, dusting the rubble of off his suit. With that, he made sure the bow-tie was straight, and then walked out, near the end of the curb.

There were a lot of things he learned about the world that day.

He learned that drug-dealers liked dark alleys next to the subway entrance.  
He learned that sometimes people took pictures of other people when they were doing bad things.  
He learned that whores were persistant.  
He learned that it was supposed to rain that day,  
that the speed limit was 25,  
that the lightposts were rusting...  
He learned that that the sidewalk was slippery (and in a painful way, might I add)

And you're probably wondering /why/ he learned all of these things. Well, they all resulted in his first gain of knowledge: the sad truth that taxi drivers didn't stop for puppets. He tried again and again, his pleas growing more and more agrivated, to the point where he could only scream innapropriete language at the yellow blurs as they passed him buy. He supposed his stature left him insignificant in the world.

Sure, he was pissed for a while. It wasn't exactly enjoyable wandering around town with people staring at him every which direction, but he got used to the strange looks and tried to focus on his destination.

The subway smelled like McDonalds that day, birds didn't chirp, the endless sea of heads could only move an inch a minute, and Billy was not a patient guy-Er...puppet.

Getting back to the story, it was his idea of fun to go down to that house and scare the crap out of people even though it wasn't planned. See...Daddy Jigsaw had the impression that if Billy's presence was not stratigicly put into just the right traps at just the right time, that everything would be thrown off and he'd be a disgrace to serial killers everywhere. Or all in all, master-mind criminals in general.

So naturally, Billy was quite happy about causing trouble.

However, there were other things to watch out for.

Even if he /were/ to make people crap their pants in fear, there was a slight chance that whoever had the most balls in the house wasn't gonna play into some wooden puppet coming by and trying to traumatize them all. He could have been beaten up for all he knew! It was a painful experience back with that Adam guy. He was glad he was dead.

And let us also consider the possibility of becomming /stuck/ inside of the house. Not to say that he would die or something, but generally, being stuck with a bunch of retard-losers who couldn't have gratitude for their lives just wasn't gonna do it for such a long period of time. They'd start to annoy him tremendously. Sure, he did his thing on occasion and said the whole "congratulations" speech, but it was becomming slight of a continuous routine. All the while he could only think of how pathetic they looked, and waited word upon word for his cue to ride off on his tricycle and continue on with matters that were actually /important/. Like watching Sesame Street, and listening to rap, and being mean to people, and stealing things. Those were important.

So upon arrival of the neighborhood of the house, he had a lot to ponder, and if he really truly wanted to get involved with it.

And after a second's deliberation, he decided he did! Daammmmn right, bitch.


	2. Chapter 2 Workin' the Bitches

(_Author's note: Yes. This is where another writer comes along. I will post her name each time the paragraph(s) are hers. Sorry for any confusion.)_

PUPPETS'N'GUNS 

Chapter 2

JigsawtheWitch 

Sarah clenched her hands, growing steadily more pissed. She had woken up less than fifteen minutes ago from a drug induced coma... only to find she was locked in some ramshackle house with a group of people who probably couldn't flip on a light without specific instructions. '1. Place index finger on underside of switch. (Note: switch is considered the piece that is pointing from the wall). 2. Press upward until light turns on. 3. Remove finger from switch.' She smirked as the thought flashed through her mind. Her gaze rested on the dim-witted Neanderthals milling back-and-forth in distress. Yup. If these were the lot she was going to be stuck with for the next gods-know-how-many-hours... she was royally screwed.  
She turned around and ran her hands across the wall as if she were blind and searching for any possible obstructions or clear paths. Come ON! she thought in frustration. Jigsaw always left a note or something to let his victims know what kind of game he felt like playing.  
"Argh!" she hissed, pulling back and punching a section of the wall forcefully. It cracked and began to crumble. She'd found the clue.  
Reaching in rather tentatively, she grabbed the recording device and quickly jerked her hand out. The group of knuckle-draggers clustered around her, anxious to hear what it had to say. Narrowing her ice-blue eyes, she pressed "Play".

Myself 

He knew very well how to get in. It wasn't as if the game was on /him/. That was one thing he really enjoyed- the fact that he was on the bad-guy side.

There was a panel off to the side next to the trunk of a chimney which, being only 9 inches in diameter, was clearly meantt for him...or any other small children who'd randomly want to break into a death-house by a subway. OO This led inside of the walls, and left Billy, just a tad miffed, crawling through dust to reach a door, leading him out into a self-working elevator shaft. This wasn't going to do much to his image, he thought to himself. Being dirty? Come on. Who's gonna go for a 3 foot 11 inch puppet covered in dirt? Ohhhhh wow- how scary. They'd be "terrified for their lives", jumping into each other's arms and gasping like a group of sorority girls! No. His brow, already quite low and protruding, sank in to further cover his painted ping-pong-ball eyes. He grunted and ranted under his breath as his crawl towards that shaft progressed on, only until he stopped momentarily at sudden mumbles and sounds of distress that surfaced through the wall to his left. Surely, there was some bitch or bastard in there trying to avoid being killed or whatever...anyway. The shaft was just ahead- black and metally, it shined under a faint light at the roof of the house in order for him to see it. As though he were old, he struggled onto the seat with legs and arms that eased themselves through alledged pain. Making sure his legs weren't dangling around the ends, but rather, secure in his lap, he grabbed the chain in the middle of his seat and pulled, sending the platform several inches up. Sure, there were some clanking noises as the chains grinded from within the turner, but he figured mysterious noises would be a great addition to the atmosphere. Yep. Up to the second floor he went.

_JigsawtheWitch_

The tape crackled for a moment, and then the voice filled the silence that had fallen. "Hello, Sarah."  
Her eyes widened, actually surprised that he had mentioned her first. "I'm making the assumption that it was you that found this message." Ah. "Congratulations. This is probably the only time that your physical strength will help you overcome an obstacle in this house. Now, I'm sure all of you are pondering your predicament. Why are you here? That can be answered as you make your way through the house. As of yet, none of you are contaminated with anything…well, I have not contaminated you with anything. The only contamination that abides within all of you is something with which you've afflicted yourself..." Sarah stiffened and stopped the tape from continuing. She held up a finger, commanding silence, when the others threatened to ruin her concentration. They all froze when they too heard the clanking and rattling of chains. She shrugged when she realized that the sound was parallel to the room. Unless there was some hidden door, whoever it was wasn't going to be bothering them… yet. "…Which is not to say that later you will not be infected by some outside contamination. There will be other tapes explaining what ordeal you must survive before you have earned the privilege to return to whatever semblance of life you choose. Remember the rules... that is what will save you. Let the game begin."  
'Great,' thought Sarah as the tape player snapped itself into silence. 'This can't be good.' The cryptic message had said a lot, but revealed nothing. How were they supposed to get out of this gods-forsaken room?

That question was answered quickly enough as one of the men grabbed something from the wall and tried forcing the door open. Sarah sighed. "Oh no, please don't." she said in a sarcastic and bored voice, already anticipating that the life of this idiot was going to end before he expected. Sure enough, as soon as he had managed to pry the door open fractionally, something clicked. The next moment, the man had grown feathers out of his chest. He had triggered a trap that released the arrow at whoever decided not to abide by Jigsaw's rules. Gears whirred and clanked loudly as the door slowly opened to admit them through. A blood price? That was interesting. It didn't seem like Jigsaw to ask for one to die so others could survive. Oh well. New game, new rules. She stepped over the body and walked into the hallway. Let the game begin indeed.

Myself 

He reached the top with yet another grunt of frustration. Okay. Just to be honest and get this out of the way, Billy was lazy and out of shape. Things like running, riding his trike, and playing around the mannequin factory could slightly keep him up and at it, and he could admit were fun, but all of this upper-body strength needed at the moment was little found.

Without any hesitation he thrusted open the cabinet doors at the top floor and looked around the room. As expected it was dim, and had only an antique rug, a dresser, a small sheetless bed, and crappy looking wallpaper. Wow. How fun. He let a red mary-jane tap onto the floor and then slid out in full weight (4 pounds) from the shaft. He closed it quiet enough not to make any noise to target his position in the house, but loud enough so that he could still be apathetic about it. There really wasn't much use standing around or acting like he was afraid of what was ahead, so he opened the door and headed down a hallway with a horrible mustard colored paint on the walls. Man. This whole house was /disgustingly/ designed and decorated. What a dissapointment._  
_

_JigsawtheWitch_

Sarah let herself fall against the wall tiredly and ran a hand through her hair, slightly unsettled. She had to admit that she admired Jigsaw. The concentration, the cunning, the patience… it was incredible. Her admiration did not stop her from referring to him in quite a few varied, colorful terms. It seemed Jigsaw had been in a riddling mood when he devised these traps… that much was evident with the third death. The girl had been unable to solve the riddle and had paid for that with her life.

Sarah had been driven back into the room hurriedly when she had heard something creaking. The cross-bolt had swiveled to follow her and was slowly winding itself up. "Damn," she said, impressed. Not willing to find out what would happen if she waited to see what the cross-bolt would do next, she stepped back into the room. The man who had followed her out, Andrew, had decided to wait. It was his corpse that was sprawled in the hallway, an arrow through his neck. In some small way, she envied Andrew. One of the blundering idiots – she hadn't seen which one… lucky them – had flipped the one light switch in the room. The lights instantly died. A voice, somewhere from the ceiling, said, "'Night, 'night," and they all quickly succumbed to the sleeping agent that filtered into the room. Her last conscious thought was how lucky Andrew was – at least he didn't have to deal with them anymore.  
When they awoke for the second time, one of the girls was screaming. She was practically hidden beneath the contraption on her body, holding her against the wall. One piece was wrapped around her chest, one around her neck, one covering her wrists, and one slowly revolving around her, as if ready to strike, but unsure of where. Sarah found the tape and slid it into the player.  
"Hello Skye. For most of your life, you've found the easy way out of everything. With such influential people in your life, it was easy to sit back and let them feed you choices, so you needn't ever search inside yourself to make a decision. Now, I believe, the tables have turned. You must look inside yourself to make a decision. Each piece strapped to you represents a truth you probably don't even recognize; truth of the heart, truth of the mind, truth of the hand, and truth of the unknown. Now, tell me – which is the actual truth? Decide carefully; after the second attempt, the device shuts down, regardless. Live or die," he gave a small chuckle.

"The choice is yours."  
Skye started taking gasping, panicking breaths. Sarah, quickly annoyed, grabbed Skye's head, forcing the girl to look her in the eye.  
"Listen," snapped Sarah. "You're stuck here. You're not getting out unless you play the game. So, calm down, because panicking is only going to get you killed more quickly." The girl's breathing quieted slightly. Sarah surveyed the contraption. The only way it would release Skye was if a panel of buttons were pressed correctly. One button had a picture of a hand, one had chest, one had a neck, and one had a question mark.  
"Press… press the hand button," said Skye in a quivering voice, after a long moment.  
"Are you sure?"  
"No," she gave a bitter smile. "But, the truth of the hand is the only certainty a person has… or, so I've been lead to believe. Press it." Sarah pressed down the button. It glowed for a moment before a snapping sound echoed in the room, along with Skye's agonized scream. The device had severed her hands. "Hit the unknown one!" said Skye, sobbing in pain.  
"Are you willing to risk it?" demanded Sarah in a quiet voice.  
"The less we know, the more likely it's true. Yes!" Sarah pressed the button. This time, when the chosen button glowed, it severed Skye's legs. The girl did not have long to lament them, because the contraption suddenly made a whirring noise. This time, it collapsed on her, crushing her chest and severing her neck from her shoulders. Sarah shook her head. She pressed all the buttons at one time. They all glowed, then released Skye's corpse, which crumpled to the floor in the pool of slowly spreading blood. Sarah looked up to see three incredulous pairs of eyes on her.  
"Are you serious?" she snapped. She hadn't thought they could've reached this level of stupidity. "All the truths were the correct answer. One of them can't be true without the other."  
"So why didn't you tell her!" said one girl, hysterically. "She could still be alive!" Sarah gave her a hard look.  
"This challenge was for her and no one else. If you didn't notice, I had asked if she was certain." Without waiting for any response, she turned and strode out. Her main concern was leaving the room. Skye couldn't have just… fallen into that device. Someone had to have placed her in there. And she wasn't willing to find out which one it was. Noticing some stairs, she climbed up them. "Let's rock," she muttered, mentally steeling herself and knowing it was most likely futile. It was past time to find her own challenge and get the hell out of here.

Myself 

He continued strolling down the hallway- not entirely sure where the hell he was going, but who cared? It was becomming amusing finding more and more reasons to hate this house. Lets see...horrible wallpaper, the floor had no carpetting, the colors clashed- I mean seriously. Olive and mustard? It was a nightmare. Hmm...maybe all of this eying the interior designing wasn't such a good idea. If he'd-a mentioned it to someone he knew they'd probably think he was gay.

Anyway. It was about time to sneak around downstairs and find out what kind of traps were around. He turned the corner rather briskly towards the stairs and was overwhelmed at the sight of a girl right at the top, looking a tad discomforted to whomever was behind her. OO He turned back around so quickly his hair whished in a blur of black out of view. "Shit". He thought. It wasn't time to be caught yet. What the hell were they doing coming up here so fast! They must have had 5 extra IQ points after all. Whatever. Who cared. He ran without hardly any sound in the weightlessness of his steps towards a room in the back, and then closed the door. Sure. It was practically the only closed door upstairs but maybe they'd overlook it for a while?

The room was a peice of crap. He knew that. He examined it rather anxiously in attempts to find a hiding place, and resulted, sadly enough, to the closet, already open, with...er...clothes inside. oO How strange. Well, still. He approached it at first with hesitance, but then lent a weak hand out to push them down to the other end and stand in the back. A toy fell from the shadows and landed next to his feet. Hey! So he wasn't the only creepy inanimate object around! His cheeks glowed into another smile as he closed the closet door.

JigsawtheWitch 

Sarah climbed the stairs, partially oblivious to her surroundings as she lost herself deep in thought. Her musings were cut rather short as she reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner. "Oh, fuck me up the ass," she cursed loudly as she surveyed the hallway. Frustrated, she turned to the wall and pounded her head against the plaster for a moment. She lifted her head from the wall and glared at the row of doors.  
"Of course," she said, growing ticked once more. "I've blundered around some of this gods-forsaken house and found nothing but fucking doors," she ranted. "I climb the stairs and turn a corner and – surprise! – what do I find! More of these damn doors!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Well, what should I have fucking expected!"  
She clenched her fists and seriously considered punching the wall until she left a hole. Growling angrily, she decided against it. Though it would vent her frustration rather adequately, it would also waste time and energy she would probably need. She fingered the hidden sheath attached to her jeans, wishing that Jigsaw had at least left her dagger. "Ah, well," she said aloud… though she was speaking to herself. O.o Leaning against the wall, she continued to think aloud."In this game, there is committing suicide and there is… committing suicide." she amended thoughtfully, albeit lamely. "The one version is by giving up and losing… and that is at least forgivable to a degree. Then, there is committing suicide by refusing to play the game." She paused for a moment, and then bared her teeth in a feral smile. She pushed herself from the wall and studied the rooms that lined the hallway. All of them were open to some degree… except the one at the very end of the hall.  
She cursed again under her breath. Did that mean that the last door was a certain death sentence? Or did it mean it was the test? "Argh!" she growled, caught between one choice and the other. Her breath hissed furiously between her teeth as she hesitantly made up her mind.  
"And, Jigsaw," she muttered as she strode toward the door. "I sincerely hope you've set up something that tests us both… because, what would make you think that I'm not willing to play the game?"

Myself 

The door to his room opened. Now you're probably asking "how the hell would he know that it was /his/ door in specifics? Well. It was just that feeling. He knew when something happened rather close to him! Man. This was fantastical. Of all the rooms "oh I'm a bitch- I think I'll choose this one!" Whore. God...He slid slowly and quietly down the wall and sat in the darkness, feeling the toy that had fallen at his feet push slightly into his side. Well. He figured he could just pop out at any moment and scare the crap out of her...yes...that was always an option. Hahahah...and then of course the others would follow and enter the room and be like "HOLY SHIT A PUPPET'S HOLDING HER HOSTAGE!" OO Mwahahahahahahaa...yes...

He stood up again and pressed the said of his face closely against the closet door, hoping he wouldn't accidentally tap his nose or his cheek into it and create a sound for her to follow. Hmm...okay. Okay she was entering the room...(duh)...uhm...okay she took a few steps. OH WAIT! OHHH! OHHHHH! She stopped.

JigsawtheWitch 

Sarah stepped into the room cautiously, keeping an eye out for possible traps. She sighed. With her luck, she could walk into the room and not set anything off… but sneaking in would set off every trap in the whole damn house. She rolled her eyes, because she knew that that was entirely possible. She took a few more hesitant steps but stopped suddenly. She could have sworn that she had heard something move behind her. She stood without moving for a moment. That moment seemed to last for an eternity. Hearing nothing except for her own shallow breathing, she reluctantly allowed herself to relax. There didn't seem to be anything in the room… so, maybe it was one of those rooms that lulled people into a false sense of security. Joy. That meant, she could take a step in any freaking direction and have something severed. Painfully. More fun. Her glance swept about the room, ensuring she hadn't overlooked anything potentially useful. Hey! A closet! She started walking toward it, but hesitated. A thought flashed across her conscience. 'Oohh… more possible death traps…' What fun. "Pick me first," she muttered, stepping hesitantly closer to the closet.

Myself 

He was no idiot. He HEARD those footsteps in full squeaking floor-board cracking horrible sound! They were coming towards him and he was scared out of his mind. And you might think it was because someone would find him, but no, he was scared that someone would find him before he found /them/ and he could scare them. This was /not/ how he wanted to be seen! With much haste, he slipped behind the clothes to his right and slid into his knees to curl up into a ball behind some boxes. It was working perfectly, perfectly indeed! No one would ever suspect a shadow- if she could even /see/ the shadow that is. Yeah...there was no way Billy the puppet-mofo was gettin' caught!

JigsawtheWitch 

She tentatively opened the door, mentally readying herself for when she ended up springing a trap. The door pushed open with little resistance, but with an extremely loud and teeth-grating whine. And that was all.  
She sighed, releasing the breath she hadn't realized she'd held." Jigsaw, you are one sick son of a bitch," she muttered admiringly. She crouched down, looking closely at whatever was in the closet. There were boxes... there were -surprise!- clothes... but, nothing else. "I'm so glad I haven't just wasted 15 minutes of my confinement trying to find something that doesn't exist." she snapped. She stopped, then shook her head.  
Hmm... maybe she ought to try a little more social contact." Talking to myself probably doesn't scream, "I'm sane!" She shrugged, then stood. Oh well... there were another few hundred fucking doors waiting.

Myself 

He didn't have to hold his breath. Why? Because he didn't breathe! You knew that.

Well. Okay. He /could/ breath. Sometimes he did it low and quickly to get attention from Jigsaw or Mommy, other times he just wanted to sound pissed off and grunting came in handy. Lungs weren't even used to begin with. He simply sucked in air and let it fly right out of a giant gap in the plastic-y mold of his chest and shoulders. So in reality, it wasn't really necessary.

Moving on to more relevant matters, he felt impelled to creep out from the pile of crap in which he'd hidden and slide the door open once he thought he heard her footsteps trail off._  
_


	3. Chapter 3 Ruined the Entire Thing

(_**Author's note:** This time around, I did not specify who wrote what. I figured by the POV's you could tell now. Plus, I got consent from JigsawtheWitch to not put names each new post. It's annoying anyway!)_

PUPPETS'N'GUNS 

Chapter 3 Ruined the Whole Thing

Slamming on her mental breaks, she froze just outside the door she had randomly chosen. She had thought she heard the grating sound of a door slide open. Screw that, she _had_ heard a door opening. Looking around quickly, it was obvious none of the doors lining the hallway had been moved in the slightest.  
So, it was a door inside one of the rooms. But, which one? "Oohh," she said, the sound of realization punctured with humorless laughter. _Figures_, she thought bitterly. Looking up and down the hallway, she still saw nothing. Apparently, the neanderthals had decided to stay away from her... or, had gotten killed. That thought was sufficient to make her smile. She sighed, her eyes rolling upwards and she fell bonelessly against the wall. She kept her head pressed against the cool wall for a moment before smacking off it repeatedly. "-smack- I'm -smack- stuck -smack- in -smack- this -smack- gods -smack- forsaken -smack- house -smack- and -smack- I -smack- cannot -smack- find -smack- ANYTHING! -smack-" Rolling her body, so the back of her head now pressed against the wall, she contemplated beating that side of her head, before a thought struck her. "Where's the kitchen?" she said, pushing herself to her feet and walking down the hallway. "I hope they have a working oven... or something with flame."

_What the hell was that bitch rambling about?_ He thought with an angered expression over his glossy face. Talk talk talk. Talk out loud! I mean seriously. Shut the hell up. He was so sick of people being ungrateful to be alive! So sick of everything!

Eeek. Now he was starting to sound like his father. Okay, the point was, he suddenly felt an ingenious plan surface in his mind. So much, that he grinned, and when he grinned, the swirls on his cheeks grew tighter together and with such happiness in his heart the swirls felt as though they were running in hypnotizing circles. GOD! Being mean to people was going to be SO much fun! 3 3 3 He made fists with his little fabric hands and held his arms up as he ran back to the self-powered elevator-SHIT. The door opened. He froze by the shaft door and turned his head slowly towards it. He was exposed. Unable to hide, and running showed weakness.

A man with a dirty grey shirt and thick brown hair to his shoulders poked his big ugly head in, causing Billy's eye sockets to enlarge greatly and show the perfect circles of his red irises from below his prominent brow. The man looked entirely petrified. Billy looked pretty damn petrified too. He let go of the handle and just stood. Didn't say anything, didn't blink. Just kept gazing brown eyes focused on the puppet, standing fully up, on it's own, and looking at him. He probably thought he was ugly or something.

"...Hello." He said with his signature Jigsaw voice, but with slight awkwardness and drop in volume. The man rose a hand and shook it somewhat jerkily. Billy shot his eyes back and forth. "...Goodbye." He broke out of the statue-like position and hopped into the elevator. When he looked out the slits of the metal door, the man watched, without a move, as he slid slowly back down the elevator shaft.

Fuck.

The sound of gears grinding together squeakily caught her attention. She whipped her head around.  
Because everything in this damn house seemed to be against her, she couldn't tell exactly where the squeaking originated. _You're probably better off, anyway, idiot,_ she told herself. But, she was so tempted to follow the noise... Then, she mentally punched herself. _Yes, because the last dozen times I went to follow a noise went so productively._ Shaking her head -she decided that she was now officially mad- she crept down the hall towards the stairs. Lost in thought, she didn't notice she was at the bottom of the stairs until she ran into something solid and unyielding... ... And it wasn't the wall... _Oh damn, what now?_ Her eyes widened in surprise as she gave the man a swiping glance. _Pfft, so what? It's a guy... you've taken them on and won before... what's your problem now?_ She shook her head in denial at her thoughts. Her reaction wasn't because she ran into a man. It was because he wasn't one of the neanderthals from the room. "Oh, shit,"

A tall, thin sillohuette stood before her. The top of his head, by the light of the room behind him could be seen, and it was round and perfectly hairless. He breathed roughly and rapidly, and held to a contraption in the darkness with a strange thick object hanging off of it. His breathing continued, shallow and deep all at once. His chest could be seen slightly rising and falling.

It took a few seconds for him to react. He didn't speak, he didn't move, but then as best as he could he darted off down the hallway, wheezing and sliding what now in the light turned out to be a pole on wheels with a medicine bag attached to his arm through a cord. He slid it across the wooden floor and ran away from her in panic. oo;;

Momentarily stunned, she just stood there. And watched. As he booked it in the opposite direction. "Well, I didn't expect_that_." Still mildly surprised, she shrugged and followed him... though, at a more sedate pace. She wandered down the hallway, muttering curses under her breath. Though he had looked frail, he had gotten his ass out of there quickly enough. And, if that wasn't bad enough, he had seemingly vanished. There had been no irritating squeal of hinges... no frantically scuffling footsteps... no squeak of wheels against metal... abso fucking-lutely nothing. "Damn it!" she muttered venemously as she brushed several strands of hair from her eyes. (Heh... can anyone tell that I like using adjectives unnecessarily?) She walked to the end of the hall and stopped in her tracks. And smiled. An almost inaudible rustle of clothing and breathing was all she needed. Granted, she might misjudge from where the sound originated... but it was better than nothing, right? Right. She positioned herself so she could attempt to avoid any surprises... and reached for the handle.

Before the handle could be touched, it burst open and Jigsaw's eyes enlarged."AAAAAGH!" He shrieked uncontrollably.

"Oh, Jesus H. Christ!" She jumped back, her hand over her rapidly pounding heart.

It took a few moments for him to regain himself. His surprised face, with his bald head giving him the appearance of a frightened infant, returned to a stern expression. "Eh-Get out of my way!" He reached out and shoved her to the side, and continued nearly limping down the hardwood floor, the last of his energy was draining though. The steps felt in slow motion...

Once more, she was stunned into paralysis. "Wait just a damn moment," she said angrily, the surprise-induced paralysis wearing off relatively quickly. "What kind of sick-fuck joke is this?"

Jigsaw caught his breath and stopped the strain on his weak body, feeling as though his head was floating away. He heard the comment kind of as if it were far away, but of course, registered it all the same. He was hunched, with thin muscle and shoulder blades as visible shapes under his white shirt he had been bedridden in for some time now. He turned around a step at a time and breathed shallowly. "You just stay out of my way and play your little game." He replied, a little agitated. He turned back around, feeling every crack and pull in his bones. He truly did feel old. He couldn't move any further...

He really wanted to get the godamn hell out of there and show her who was in control, but he stumbled mindlessly to the side and held on to a pillar at the end of the stairs like a kid on a merry-go-round, his arms fully around it, his face against the cold metal. He felt defeated.

"Oh Jesus...I'm getting too old for this shit."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "_My_ game? This was _not_ my fucking game, I can assure you."  
She was ready to continue her verbal tirade... but didn't. There was no way in hell that she could do that... not to him... at least not now... not when he looked the way he did. "Oh, damn me to all seven hells," she cursed, turning her head, as thoughts warred. She sighed in defeat and looked at him.

Despite her being a smartass, he was waiting impatiently for her to walk off and leave him alone but she never did. She just stood and soaked in on Jigsaw's poor defeselessness. He hid his face behind the pole and scoffed under his breath. "Damnit Billy..."

His muttered curse caught her attention and sufficently distracted her oddly-placed guilt.  
"Wait... there's someone else in here besides _you_?"

He froze at the pole. It was not her comment that caught his ear, it was a faint crack in the side of the wall. Fury came into his eyes again. It really was not what he wanted to do...not at all. This was ruining the plan! "For God's sake.." he thought to himself.

He swiftly, with newly found strength due to his rage, turned around and his eyes shot past a doorframe, the bits of visible furniture in the room beyond it, and straight down to an elevator shaft that was conveniently all the way across the floor from him. It stood at the other end of the house, but he dragged himself and the medicine pole through the house, not once looking back to the girl. He was determined to reach that elevator shaft. He huffed and puffed and slapped his bare-feet across the chipped wood. The wheels of the pole would sometimes stop at the surfacing cracks, but he would shove it along and create a trail of detached splinters behind it.

He reached the shaft almost without breath again, but with his determined arm, he slammed open the intricately designed metal door and heard it clash with an ear-pitching clatter as it hit the side of the wall. He stuck his free arm in and yanked out the poor defenseless puppet body that had been hiding from within. Billy slid a little across the floor with his nose into the rug and then rose a little in pain.

"You get out of here right now! GET! GET! GET YOU FILTHY SON-OF-A-BITCH!" Billy's ego immediately dropped and he stumbled to his feet. Jigsaw repeatedly kicked him towards the front door, his black mohair becomming more and more tangled.

"Daddy," Billy said with his face into the doormat.  
"I SAID GET OUT!" Jigsaw nearly tore a spare key from his pocket and ripped the door open. Billy solemnly carried on outside, and Jigsaw followed him. He slammed the door and caused the house to shake, leaving the girl standing alone by the stairs.

She blew out a breath of air in slight annoyance.  
"What the _fuck_ just happened?"  
Then her eyes widened.  
Jigsaw had freaked out.  
He had freaked out... on a _puppet_.  
A puppet that _spoke_.  
With words.  
"Jesus Christ in an Easter parade," she mumbled, allowing herself to fall backwards against the wall. Now, sometimes people went a little... nuttier than a fruitcake... during stressing times - but, Jigsaw. _Jigsaw!_   
No... he didn't look like he was capable of doing a lot right now... but, he also didn't look like he had jumped aboard the insane train. Nor did it seem possible that he could reach that tone of voice that the puppet had had.  
Which left one thing.  
That puppet was fucking alive.  
Or something like that.  
"_This_ is certainly new."

Jigsaw continued down the porch steps, his fist clenching Billy's bowtie and dragging him along. Billy tried to regain his balance, but he was moving too fast for his legs to manage and by the time they reached the curb, Jigsaw let go, sending Billy flying. He stayed tough and stood up, staring up to his father.

The nerve of him. All he wanted to do was have a little fun!

"Billy." Billy folded his arms.  
"What."  
"Don't you 'what' me."  
"Seriouslyyyy. What?" He asked stubbornly.  
"I told you to stay in your room."  
"Well I didn't wanna stay in my room! What're you gonna do about it!"  
"I'm gonna ground you for YEARS; that's what I'm gonna do about it." Billy didn't respond. "I'm dissapointed in you, Billy." He continued on. Billy looked up angrily to a view of Jigsaw, his brow low, but then averted his eyes to the medicine poll and snickered a little.  
"What! What!"  
"Your medicine." They pause again. A car drives by. A few birds chirp.  
"Oh. Yeah, me having cancer and on the verge of death is hilarious. NOW GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM!"  
"FUCK YOUUUUU!" Jigsaw suddenly shot out and grabbed Billy by the face.  
"Shhhh-hhh. If you don't keep your voice down somebody's gonna hear us."  
"I think you oughta just call it a day, Daddy."  
"What!"  
"Well they obviously know you were in there. I-i-it doesn't look like a very good game this time around..."  
"Stay out of my business-"  
"And the weather doesn't look very good either- the hostages are kinda testy today."  
"SHUT UP!"  
"Just a conjecture..." Billy trails on.

Once the realization that the puppet was... some form of animate... had settled, she was able to think - moderately - rationally again. She was debating whether to stay put and see if Jigsaw would return to watch his game... or if she should just continue her search through the house - when her thoughts were interrupted by a voice screaming, "FUCK YOUUUUU!" It sounded like the puppet. Curious - _"What would make the puppet scream that of all words?"_ - she walked toward the door from which the pair had left. She heard - Jigsaw? - hush the - puppet? - and mutter something that she couldn't quite catch. The puppet must have said something because she heard Jigsaw growl, "What!" They were arguing over something... _what_ exactly they were arguing about was another subject.  
She was just about to walk down another hallway and hope that something killed her - she was caught between laughing hysterically and... some other emotion... and she didn't think she could last long without making some sort of noise. But, as random as her thoughts were... she realized that... Jigsaw - in his anger... haste... whatever - had not locked the door. o.O Just as she eased it open, she heard Jigsaw - again - shouting, "SHUT UP!" The puppet muttered something about, "Just a conjecture..." and she couldn't resist drawing their attention to the fact that they had forgotten something so simple as locking the door. "Are you going to let him talk to you like that, Jigsaw?"

The two halted and simulaniously turned their heads up to the girl at the porch. Billy looked back to Jigsaw.  
_"I told you it wouldn't work."_  
_ "You ruined the entire thing-"_  
"What're you gonna do now, hm?" Jigsaw stared in anger to the paint-chipped wooden face and it's expectant expression. His eyes were wide and revealed his red irises, but he could tell he was still in a mischievious sort of mood.  
"Go hide in the bushes." Jigsaw muttered. Billy dashed off, and left Jigsaw standing helpless on the sidewalk.

She leaned against the doorframe, waiting as they traded a few more insults.  
She cleared her throat after the puppet skulked off into the bushes. "Perhaps it would be beneficial if you were to come back inside." she suggested carefully in Jigsaw's direction. "And," she added. "I may not have a torch... but, I can lend you a lighter."

Billy stared from the brush with his fabric hands trying to hold back the leaves that kept getting in the way. Jigsaw looked determined- the hand with the pole clutched it tightly.

Jigsaw had regained himself.

"Oh no, I don't think that would be a good idea." He smiled at her casually. "Go on. If you'd like to leave right now, I'm obviously in no condition to stop you. Of course, if you wish to inform everyone else still in the house, consider yourself a murderer. Funny the way the roles are reversed." She seemed a little dumbfounded and struck at an odd note with this comment, but Jigsaw continued. "You're a smart girl. The both of us know what kind of insignificant creatures you were trapped with before this little event. I thought I'd teach them a little lesson; wake them up; stop their pollutants from reaching the minds of the great, like you and I. It's your choice, really."

She raised an eyebrow at his comment. She held up a finger and opened her mouth... then thought better of it. _Oh, hot damn,_ she thought, smiling ruefully.  
"Excuse me," she said, knowing her voice came out slightly strangled. Turning her face away, she let go. She managed to choke her hysteria into silence, but was unable to stop her shoulders from shaking. Finally, she was able to turn back.  
"No, um... I think you misunderstood my intentions. I only asked you back inside because I didn't think that you would thank me for asking something... _personal_." As she said that, she hoped that he had caught her eye jerking movements toward the house... and understood that what she wanted to ask would probably get him landed in a police station if someone overheard it. She continued, anyway.  
"And, I don't _want_ to leave." her eyes narrowed. "There's a certain _reason_ I'm _here_... and I'm not leaving until I... well, earn the privilege to leave." She sighed in frustration, hoping that he picked up on the nuances she'd tried to add... without saying them outright. But... There was something she couldn't blunt. "And, hon... _what_ in the seven bloody hells makes you think that I'd _want_ to warn _them_!" She gave him a funny look... he did his research... he ought to have known that she didn't give a damn what happened to them. Then, as an after-thought, she added, "Oh, by my last count... it's down by three in there." Something else struck her, too.  
_Damn it... why can't I think of things in one string of thought instead of adding on to each previous thought?_ "Hold on a moment, there. We _all_ know that the sole purpose for placing people in this house is so they can learn to appreciate life... or die." He nodded in affirmation when she paused expectantly. "And... you just confirmed that neither you nor I want their ignorance and stupidity to spread like the disease it is."  
She didn't wait long enough for him to show any acknowledgement. "So, would you care explaining why the _fuck_ I had to be confined with them... when it seems that you and I are on the same level here?"

He took a moment to consider that.

"Well then. That's a very easy question to answer, Sarah. You and I are not at the same level. Yes, you're a very smart girl who has made a mistake, and so've the other members of the house regardless of their stupidity. Of anyone who survives, I pressume their new appreciation will teach them a little bit about not wasting space and being of meaning to the world around us. That is why you're here. Once my victims learn to appreciate their life instead of waste it away, their worth won't be such a question. You, Sarah, are intellegent and witty, but still serve no meaning."

She didn't suppress the laughter this time. "Well, I appreciate that you don't mince words, Jigsaw. That is the most blunt way I have heard anyone call me useless." She flashed him a genuine smile. Then she turned her head, grimacing.  
Ow. Smiles hurt. Sighing, she reached behind her and took hold of the door.  
"Well, if you would be so kind to lock me back in here... I still have a lesson to learn." A frown crossed her face briefly. "Though, before you do... I'd wanted to ask you; I have not found a single tape-recorder since the one in the wall. Hence, I can't exactly try my hand at surviving a trap if I can't find it. Would you mind throwing me a hint to go on, please?"

"No." He said bluntly. She snorted.  
"I love you, too," she said sarcastically, taking a step backwards and closing the door.

Billy continued to brush the leaves away from his view. After some dialogue and a brief state of Jigsaw just standing there, grinning mildly towards the door, he walked up and dissapeared from view, and then came strolling back around the side swinging the keys around his finger. For the first time in a while, he looked kind of happy.

"Billy." He said. He pulled him by the back of his suit jacket from the bushes and dangled him in the air. His red mary-janes tapped together with limp legs.  
"Yes?"  
"Help me on the subway." Billy solluted him and they were off.


End file.
